


Stolen Moments

by Natashasolten



Category: Wiseguy
Genre: First Time, M/M, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-21
Updated: 2011-10-21
Packaged: 2017-10-24 20:32:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/267593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Natashasolten/pseuds/Natashasolten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A sudden grope with Sonny leaves Vinnie feeling confused and lost, so he goes down to the casino to gamble away his anxiety.  But there is just no hiding from the all-too solicitous and friendly Sonny Steelgrave.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stolen Moments

**Author's Note:**

> Previously published in Dyad, 2010.

“It’s something that is out of our hands  
Something we will never understand…”

“The Bottom Line” – Depeche Mode

 

The autumn night plunged over them in brilliant, early dark as the limo took them home. They had just come from the import warehouse at the docks where Sonny Steelgrave had met with a couple of nefarious diamond merchants wanting to use his base of operations to smuggle a cache of stolen diamonds safely into the U.S. Vinnie had gone along in his capacity as advisor and bodyguard. And in his opinion, doing business with these guys was a mistake. They were sleazy and shifty. They could not meet Sonny’s eyes. They spoke like amateur liars in a teenage game of Truth of Dare. Vinnie wasn’t sure if it was his normal paranoid personality coming through or cop instincts. Whatever it was didn’t matter. He didn’t like those guys and he told Sonny just that.

Sonny had asked, chuckling, “What makes you think they’re lying?”

It was a question asked in a tone that often perplexed Vinnie, coming from a major mafia king-pin who should have known better, whose experience running Steelgrave Enterprises which owned several hotels, a casino, waterfront warehouses, and a number of other not so above-board businesses was years in the running. When Sonny showed this side of himself, that sort of uncharacteristic naivete and vulnerability he had, Vinnie wondered how he’d even made to age 34 in that shadowy underworld of a life.

Vinnie replied, “Hell, Sonny, that big one, Rafael, couldn’t even meet your eyes the whole time.” Vinnie was an expert at liars. And lying. This was because he was the biggest liar of them all. It had been three months now since he’d infiltrated the Steelgraves on one of the biggest undercover assignments of his life. He’d come to take down the older Steelgrave, Dave, one of the most ruthless mafiosos still in play even in these times, whose acts of sabotage and murder rivaled few in the organized crime business. Shortly after Vinnie came to work for them, Dave had died in a shoot out during a meeting that had gone horribly wrong. Sonny had taken over, though he’d mostly run the place even when Dave was alive. Luckily for him, it was Sonny he’d managed to get close to, and that elated his bosses who had not had an agent this deep into the crime syndicates in years.

Unlike his brother, Sonny was actually “human” or so it seemed. Where Dave had been cold, dark, tall, stiff, Sonny was rather warm, lighter on the eyes, smaller, loose and comfortable in his compact, coppery skinned body. He had dark hair but there were highlights of gold in it when the light hit just right, and his dark eyes flashed with a much softer gleam of fun and a lustful penchant for living life to the fullest that Dave’s frozen stares had lacked.

When he’d first started this undercover assignment, Vinnie felt the instant connection between the two of them. Even from the very beginning when Sonny overrode his brother’s orders to start Vinnie at the bottom of the organization and made him, instead, his assistant, Vinnie realized there might be something more going on than just mere generosity. That astonishing gesture of immediate trust had not failed to impact him. But that was okay because it cemented his cover even more. Also, Vinnie had immediately liked him, and Sonny had responded in kind, almost too readily, taking him with him on more and more outings, confiding in him, sharing organization secrets. The amount of information Vinnie was able to gather in a short time to make the case for the OCB to take down the Steelgraves was staggering, and all due to Sonny’s flamboyant, easy-to-like, all too trusting personality.

As he sat beside Sonny now, Vinnie stared at his own reflection in the limo’s darkened side window. His dark hair swept his forehead in a soft wave. He had strong features, a square jaw, straight nose, high cheekbones. Under two thick slashes of dark brows, his blue eyes stared back at him, wide open, with a charm even he admitted to. He used those looks to get people to trust him. He knew how to prey on personal weaknesses. He knew if he could get people to look into his eyes, and if he mixed a little tough with a little gentle, he could get anyone to love him. Lying. He was the master.

He turned to the man seated next to him who was barely contained in his excitement over this new deal. He stood to make several million if the deal didn’t go sour. Sonny’s hands played a rhythmic pattern on his thighs. He was in a real good mood.

Vinnie watched him with real affection. Yeah, he’d turned on his charm. Pushed forward with his intellect, his charisma. It was almost too easy. But he hadn’t counted on feeling anything in return. He hadn’t counted on liking anyone in the Steelgrave family, let alone one of the two top guys who ran the place.

Something twisted in his gut at the thought of betraying this man.

Vinnie felt slightly sick at the thought that, in the end, Sonny was going hate him no matter what happened. He liked Sonny, truly, and as the job had progressed his guilt about being a cop ate at him little by little. He was doing a great job, but there was that little pang of regret, of feeling he was dirty, no better than the criminals he sought to take down.

At that moment, Sonny turned to look at him. He smiled and it wasn’t his usual street scowl or impatient glower, but more like the kind of smile one comrade gives another, as if they were both “in” on something the rest of the world had yet to discover.

Vinnie’s gut twisted harder, and he felt warm tingles in his chest. The success of the job and the agony of his personal feelings for Sonny mixed into a kind of confusion that left him, at times, breathless.

He could not remember ever feeling quite this way before. Not for anyone. And definitely not for a guy.

As if reading his thoughts, Sonny winked at him, then said, “You did good today.”

Vinnie smiled back at him. Then something changed. A look in Sonny’s eyes, a sparkle. He could not mistake the way the biggest mafia kingpin in Atlantic City was looking at him. An “I want you” stare mixed with the narrowed brow of confusion.

He did not know what to say because he knew the glimmer in Sonny’s eyes was less about Vinnie’s job performance and more about whatever the fuck was going on between them that made Vinnie question everything in his life up to this point.

It was only 5 o’clock but evening was locking in quick and tight, affecting their vision and their appetites.

Sonny turned away, fingertips rubbing a tight forehead.

Vinnie caught his lower lip beneath his white front teeth. He ran his fingers through his dark bangs. Damn he was edgy tonight. Now his skin burned under the whispery silk suit. He should’ve been cool and reserved. The perfectly trained Federal agent with every line expertly drawn from outside stance to internal philosophical discourse. He should not have even been noticing any “looks” from Sonny.

But even this was part of the job.

It was easy to be with Sonny. He wasn’t pretending that he enjoyed being around Sonny.

Guilt closed in on him even tighter. It made him want to pull away, run away, because for the life of him he did not want to see Sonny hurt in the aftermath of destroying the Steelgraves. And because this was going to go south for Sonny and end very very badly.

Damn! Where were his priorities now? He needed to concentrate. Concentrate on the job. He was a professionally trained agent. With Sonny in his back pocket, it should be the sweetest, easiest assignment of his life.

The limo pulled into the hotel garage leaving the twilight shadows and glimmers of a new October evening behind them. They got out, walked together to the private elevator which would take Vinnie to his ornate suite (one of many gifts from Sonny) and Sonny up to the top floor to his own penthouse where he lived. Strangely, they were both silent. When they arrived at Vinnie’s suite, instead of going on up one more floor, Sonny exited the elevator with him. Vinnie turned as the doors closed on the suite’s private foyer, brows narrowed in a question.

At first Vinnie did not know what to make of the hands on his shoulders, their almost too-tight clasp, or the fact that Sonny’s breath was hot on his lips. Sonny pushed him back suddenly against the now closed door to the elevator. For a moment, Vinnie felt a flutter of panic, like a warm kind of pain simmering in his gut. He felt the shorter man’s body shove sturdily against him, and then Sonny was kissing him hard, lips of velvet flame molding, pressing, the faint scent of coffee, of mint.

Everything stopped. His breath. His thoughts. His heart.

Sonny’s tongue probed, caressed, pushed and suddenly the room seemed to tilt. Unbelievably, his knees started to give. He leaned harder against the elevator door for support.

When Sonny’s kiss ended, they both jerked back and he could see Sonny’s eyes reflect the same shocked, impassioned look he knew his own eyes conveyed.

Vinnie’s mouth was open. The breath he took came as a tiny gasp. Every part of his body was on fire. It was quite sudden. And a surprise. He had not expected that reaction. It was simple, really. He was not prone to kissing men. And neither, he thought, was Sonny despite the looks Sonny had been giving him. Even with their closeness, he had completely convinced himself that Sonny would never act on it. This was something in the mafia that could get you killed fast.

So what the fuck was going on? If Sonny wanted sex, he could hire anyone at all, even a male hustler, discreetly and covertly. Vinnie would keep the secret and not judge.

But that didn’t seem to matter because apparently it was Vinnie who Sonny wanted now. And Vinnie’s own body didn’t seem at all inclined to protest.

“I don’t understand this at all.” Sonny’s voice carried soft and low. He was turned away now.

So, Sonny was perplexed as well. Vinnie should have felt better at those words, but he didn’t. He was shaking. And quite fully aroused.

This could not be allowed to happen. It just couldn’t. Vinnie breathed in again, trying for control. His affection for Sonny was not in question, but his actions had to be carefully weighed. If he compromised his undercover position in any way, he would not only fail at his job, but he could be putting his own life in abject danger.

But that one kiss. Damn. He was hard as a rock. It both confused and thrilled him. It was so forbidden. He’d never reacted this way to another man before.

He stared at the back of the shorter man. Sonny’s silk Armani suit was black as midnight. Beneath it, the slim, compact body seemed to shudder as he attempted to get a grip. His straight dark brown hair glistened in the low city light from the plate glass windows. They were high over the city now, above the shadows, the glare, the streets. Above the harsh realities of daily life, the expectations, the roles they played, the law.

Vinnie shut his eyes for a moment, daring himself, forsaking himself, denying himself. But his body demanded a decision. Now. And without thinking, Vinnie went to him, grabbing his upper arms and turning him back to face him. Sonny’s hands lifted to his ribcage, holding him lightly as Vinnie kissed him this time, their heated mouths melting into each other.

It didn’t end the way it should have, the way Vinnie’s rational mind rallied for, with a kiss and a turning away and held breaths, separation, denial. It didn’t end with Sonny going up alone to his penthouse and Vinnie tossing and turning the rest of the night alone, confused, unable to eat or sleep

Instead, there was the sound of unzipping. The sensation of spinning. The quick burn in his veins. The curved fingers. The hesitant gentle caresses on bared intimate flesh. All brand new. Shockingly new.

Sonny’s hands on him stroked so smooth and fine he couldn’t help but thrust into his palm. He touched Sonny in turn, feeling firm flesh on his fingers, circling the length of it, pulling, coaxing. They moved together, hips jerking forward, slacks slipping down around narrow hips, wrinkling, bunching. Vinnie felt ready to explode as Sonny’s hand milked him from root to tip.

It wasn’t rough and tumble. It wasn’t straight-forward, either. The kisses were deep-sweet, vertigo-like kisses that communicated something beyond lust. The touches were visceral, real, but though it was almost like kids fooling around, and though they couldn’t last more than a couple of minutes, it wasn’t some meaningless play. It wasn’t drunken or thoughtless. It was more…reverent.

He quickened his strokes on Sonny’s cock and felt himself tense, felt the tightness inside him quiver, gather, build. It was too much. He groaned aloud and came at the same time he felt warm fluid cover his own hand

When they finished they were both unbalanced, leaning forward into each other for support. Breathing hard.

Vinnie’s eyes were hot.

Sonny’s forehead pressed his shoulder. In a strange gesture of…what?...protectiveness, maybe?...his hands refastened Vinnie’s trousers, palm smoothing over his still-clothed belly. Sonny fastened his own pants and pulled back. “There,” he said shakily, head still bowed. “It’s okay. Good as new.”

Vinnie went along with it. Like nothing had happened. Like his palm wasn’t still damp with essence of Sonny. Then Sonny looked up, his eyes full and open and Vinnie knew something had indeed happened. Sonny looked very apologetic.

A soft breath escaped Vinnie’s damp, flushed lips and he nodded his acceptance of whatever Sonny was trying to communicate. He said nothing as Sonny quickly brushed his knuckles along Vinnie’s jaw. The tenderness of it caught his breath. Then Sonny turned. There was a whiff of expensive spiced cologne. And he was gone into the elevator. Gone as if nothing had happened.

As if this wasn’t the end of everything.

*

Normally they might have had dinner together, either going out on the town or in one of the casino restaurants. It was so early, still, maybe 5:30, and Vinnie was left on his own.

Earlier in the day Sonny had mentioned he’d wanted to meet with security at 7 in his office. He had not meant casino security, he had meant that he wanted to meet with the men who were his bodyguards, the men who secured his more shadowy dealings, and who secured the garage, men like Vinnie.

Well, there was an hour and a half to sit and stew before then… so fuck it. After taking a quick shower, (not that he needed one but Sonny had been all over him and he felt strangely crazed just thinking about that and washing seemed to help,) Vinnie dressed in jeans, a long sleeved white cotton button up shirt, grabbed some extra cash from his hidden stash, his wallet, his leather jacket, and went downstairs.

When he entered the casino he was abruptly assaulted with sounds of coins clanging, machines whirring, people laughing and talking, as well as music on the sound system. No bands had started playing yet but it was a Friday night and it was going to start to get louder very soon.

Vinnie went straight to the cash cage window. He could’ve gone through to the back. He had clearance for that area, but he didn’t want to bother. The cashier recognized him immediately. “Hi, Mr. Terranova.”

Vinnie smiled at her charmingly. He always tried to be friendly with the other employees… you never knew when you might need a favor. He handed her two one hundred dollar bills and said, “Dollar tokens please.”

After she complied, he walked over to the dollar slots, the ones most penny-anti players considered high roller games, although the five and ten dollar slots did exist in the far end of the room in a special high roller area, and started max betting, feeding the coins absently, hitting the button. It was very nice and distracting. He didn’t have to think. He could just let himself become hypnotized by rolling wheels, wondering if or when they might line up, what the stupid payout might be. Someone was smoking next to him and it was bothering him. He did occasionally like to smoke, but he hated breathing other people’s stale, wafty clouds.

The waitress came by several times and he ordered rum and Coke…twice, and tipped her five tokens.

After awhile, he moved to another machine. He hadn’t won anything yet. He was down to fifty dollars. But that was okay. He could feed the machine bills if he wanted and play on credits. He had five hundred more burning a hole in his pocket. He felt a little hot, so took off his jacket and laid it across his lap

Finally he hit something okay and had his machine up to two hundred dollars. So he could sit with his extra coins in the tray and just keep hitting the max button. It was good. It was hypnotizing. It was like a kind of sensory deprivation where you didn’t have to think if you didn’t want to. All the casino sounds mingled around him cushioning his darker thoughts.

But still, he couldn’t stop his internal shaking. A quavering, actually, like his heart was in his throat and he couldn’t really breathe properly. He kept seeing Sonny’s eyes, the usually hard edged brown gaze gone soft with apology, and with a kind of worry that made Vinnie feel both afraid for the future and filled with a longing he hadn’t felt in, well… maybe not ever.

He finished his second drink in two gulps, thinking about ordering another.

He ran his hand through his hair twice, hit the button, hit the button again, rubbed at his eyes, hit the button again. His other hand lay in his lap on top of the jacket in a loose fist. He could feel his body was tense. He tried consciously to relax, but nothing worked. He kept playing. Nothing else mattered but the wheels turning, the numbers lining up. He lost a hundred, gained fifty, lost fifty, gained back a hundred.

He tried so hard not to think of Sonny anymore. But trying not to think of something you kept actively trying not to think of was impossible. Your mind says, ‘Don’t think of Sonny’ and there he is, grinning at you from the shadows of your thoughts like some conspirator devil who won’t quit. Vinnie stared at the wheels and saw Sonny playfully jabbing at him in the hall, or putting a brotherly arm around him in a parking lot, or touching his shoulder back in his office while punctuating some point he was trying to make, or inviting Vinnie to dinner, or…? And as the sevens passed by, never lining up properly, never giving him more than 20 or 40 bucks at a time, he saw Sonny lean in and kiss him, mouth opening, hands clutching hard at his shoulders as if in desperation. And Vinnie pictured himself just standing there, all shaken, flushed and hard, staring at Sonny’s back, then going to him, grabbing him….

That had been the mistake.

His eyes did not see the wheels anymore. His vision blurred. This was not part of the job. He couldn’t do this…. But he already had. It was too late. How in the hell could this be happening? Falling for the mark? How stupid could he be? He knew what Sonny was. Or did he? Sonny was Sonny. He was actually a very fascinating person, and he was polite and often kind. He loved with an open heart. Which was why he had such a temper. People who disappointed him were like personal failures to him…as if Sonny himself had somehow failed. It was his weakness and in this business it did not suit him to have that kind of vulnerability in his personality. It made him blind to others until the fall came. Not that Sonny wasn’t observant or didn’t plan ahead. He was astute and shrewd, but he had that chink in his armor, the one where he actually felt something real for people who could be more shadowy and notorious than he’d ever thought to be. Or who could be cops.

And that was when Vinnie saw the mirror. He was just like that. The reason he felt actual friendship for Sonny…and perhaps more…was because he wasn’t faking. He had been far too open. He was doing a job, but the friendship part had become real. The chink in his armor was that his feelings were real. And he shouldn’t have been battling with them, but here he was, going to war inside himself and trying to forget it all by watching wheels that didn’t line up and left him looking at a credit now of a mere ten dollars. He hit the machine with a whispered curse and tapped the button a few more times, watched the total dwindle to zero.

Out of tokens now, he fed the hungry machine another hundred dollar bill, his vision blurring, and closed his eyes just as he heard familiar voices moving up behind him. His stomach flipped over. “Yeah, sure, Hank, get on that now, would ya? And give Carol a break. She’s been in the back for hours and she’s looking itchy.”

Vinnie did not look up. He just hit the play button again. Again.

More people were talking to Sonny a few feet behind him. Whenever Sonny came down here he could not catch a break. Everyone wanted him. Everyone had something to say to him. What about this? What about that? Should we or shouldn’t we? Sonny handled it all with a kind of grace that would make even God nod appreciatively.

He felt Sonny get closer, heard him say to somebody, “Yeah, all right. Handle it.” As he spoke, his hand lightly landed on the middle of Vinnie’s back. It felt warm, supportive. Still, Vinnie didn’t turn. He could feel Sonny’s body inches behind him now, and to his left. He pushed the button. Sonny said, “Go tell Andrew to get down there now.” Someone mumbled something. Sonny said, “Okay,” and his hand pressed Vinnie’s back harder.

Finally, Sonny turned, apparently waving the rest of his followers away, and sat in the empty chair to Vinnie’s left. The warm hand on his back receded. Vinnie’s skin tingled. Out the corner of his eye he could see Sonny look at him, then at the machine. “If you’re trying to win something, you’re not doing too good,” Sonny said casually. “You need money?”

Vinnie hit the button. “No.”

“It’s kinda fun, huh?” Sonny asked.

Vinnie nodded. “Yeah.”

“You missed the meeting,” Sonny threw in, not accusing, still just casually talking.

Vinnie glanced down at his Rolex. It was already 8:30. “Oh.” Vinnie felt his eyes grow hot. “Sorry. I forgot.”

“No big deal,” Sonny said, as if he were humming under his breath. “Bobby told me you were down here looking around. He must’ve seen you come in. Cindy in the cash cage thought you might be a little upset.”

“Just killing some time,” Vinnie mumbled. Suddenly he won fifty bucks and smirked.

Sonny quipped, “Luck is a harsh mistress.”

Vinnie hit the button. “Luck has nothing to do with it,” he replied. “It’s all rigged in favor of the house.”

Sonny chuckled. “It’s not rigged, pal, that would be illegal. It’s just how the odds are set. All within the law.”

Vinnie shut his eyes for a moment. Now Sonny was talking about the law? As if he were some squeaky clean businessman?

Vinnie hit the button. Sonny watched him quietly for awhile. The fifty dollars went quickly. Finally Sonny said, “Have you had anything to eat?”

Vinnie turned then, staring straight into those brown eyes that were all too soft right now. He didn’t like that one bit. Not one bit. He said, “Who can eat? I’m down three hundred. I gotta win it back.” He turned back to the machine half-way, one eye still on Sonny, watching as Sonny reached into his silk jacket for his rubber-banded, folded wad of cash, loosened it, took out three crisp one hundred dollar bills and placed them over the button Vinnie was pushing over and over.

“Hungry now?” Sonny asked.

For some reason, that gesture made Vinnie feel both wonderfully kept and possessed, and horribly out of control and not himself. “I don’t want the money like that,” he said, trying to keep his voice steady. “I wanna win it.” He pushed the three hundred aside and hit the button.

Sonny put his foot up on the ledge where the big machine sat. He leaned on his bent knee. Vinnie could tell he was trying to get him to look at him, but he just kept staring at the spinning wheels. Sonny said softly, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“You never missed a meeting before.”

Vinnie took his hand away from the button. He stared at the now still wheels. “There’re a lot of things I’ve never done before,” he murmured. He didn’t add, like falling for the mark. Like coming in another guy’s hand. “So why don’t you fire me?”

Sonny said, laughing, “Maybe I will.”

Sonny’s laugh seemed to roll right through him, snagged at his heart. Laughing together…they did it so well. Maybe that was where this had all started. Vinnie looked at him then, trying to suppress a sudden grin. “You think this is funny? I’m losing all my hard-earned money…to you.” And my heart and my soul and my sanity.

Sonny clamped his lips tight together, still smiling. “No, I don’t think it’s funny.”

Vinnie let himself laugh very softly, then leaned his elbow against the edge of the machine and put his forehead into his palm. He looked at Sonny just as Jerry, the head of casino security, walked up and asked Sonny some innocuous question.

Sonny replied politely, then said, “We’ll take care of it tomorrow. I’m not workin’ right now, okay, Jerry?”

Jerry nodded and went away.

Sonny looked back at Vinnie, who hadn’t moved. Their eyes met, and Vinnie felt himself pulled into that dark gaze and thought, ‘Oh hell, oh damn, I’m so fucking lost.’ He saw a replay of Sonny’s hand reaching out, knuckles stroking across his jaw. His eyes heated again as he half-whispered, “You just left me standing there?”

Sonny frowned. “Hmmm.”

Vinnie rolled his eyes. Looked away. “I should quit. I should just leave.” He fiddled with the slot machine button, sending the wheels whirring again.

“I’m sorry,” Sonny said under his breath.

Vinnie said it again. “You just left me.”

Sonny drew his breath in through clenched teeth. “You wanna get out of here?”

Vinnie did not answer. He played another two credits.

“It’s not easy for me, either,” Sonny said quietly, tapping absently on the buttons of the slot machine he faced.

“So…,” Vinnie ventured, still not looking up. “You have regrets.”

Sonny’s frown deepened. He looked around to make sure no one was coming upon them to ask more stupid questions, then leaned in and said softly, “Terranova, you idiot. I was only sorry I didn’t ask permission first. I’m usually not so impolite.”

“What?” Vinnie frowned now, trying to read him. “I gave permission.” Then he whispered almost savagely, “I fucking kissed you back.” He put his elbow back on the machine and faced Sonny again.

Sonny was shaking his head. “Not for the rest of it.”

Vinnie chuckled a little through a heartfelt grimace. This was insane. “Did you ever hear me say ‘no’?”

“I’m usually not so impolite,” Sonny repeated. “And it was you.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re special.” He glanced around again to see if anyone was nearby. No one was. “You deserve better….than that.”

Overwhelmed, Vinnie closed his eyes, looked away. He took his elbow off the machine’s ledge and stared at the wheels. Then he hit the button. And lost his last two dollars in credit. He eyed Sonny sharply. “Better?” he asked gruffly.

“Well…yeah,” Sonny said. “But you looked like you were gonna bolt.”

Vinnie could feel nothing but the tingles starting in his stomach again, the jolting burn in his veins at Sonny’s words. What the fuck was happening to him? What was going on with Sonny? And why were either of them encouraging this? “You’re the one who bolted,” Vinnie finally said.

“Let’s get outta here,” Sonny said again. He put his foot back on the ground, stood and grabbed Vinnie’s jacket from his lap. “Come on.” This forced Vinnie to turn, scoop up the three hundred that still sat on rim of the machine, and follow with his eyes as Sonny took a couple of steps back. He loved that jacket!

Vinnie stood, stretching stiff legs. He’d sat at the one machine for over an hour. “Hey, gimme back my jacket.”

“Come on,” Sonny said. He held the jacket over his arm. Sonny was dressed in a dark blue silk pinstripe with a cobalt tie and diamond tie-tack. He looked slim and refined, and he smelled clean as soap. No one in their right minds would suspect he and Vinnie had been doing anything even slightly off-color with their hands in each other’s trousers only a few hours ago. Or that right now Vinnie wanted very badly to do it again.

As he finished his musings, he caught Sonny’s eyes doing the same to him…that once-over assessment. His own clothes were crisp and freshly laundered, but he was much more casual. Well, he might look that way, but he certainly didn’t feel it. He felt all awkward and clumsy. He ran a hand through his thick hair again, realizing he had forgotten to gel it back. It hung wild and haphazard in clumps against his forehead. He thought it probably looked as if he’d just been blown in to the casino on the wind.

Sonny smiled at him way too friendly.

Vinnie took a step forward, then held his ground. “Where to?”

“Upstairs,” Sonny replied

Vinnie shook his head. He glanced around to see who would be coming over to interrupt them again, but no one was around.

Sonny looked down, then up again and this time his eyes showed a mix of worry and hurt.

“Sonny, I won’t go with you,” Vinnie said, stepping closer and making his voice as low as possible, “for some off-kilter one-night dalliance I can’t even wrap my mind around.”

Sonny blinked, frowning. “What? No! I don’t want… your friendship means too much to me.”

Vinnie crossed his arms and turned away.

“Come on. I’ll fix us drinks.”

Although Vinnie never answered, he found himself following his jacket…and Sonny…to the elevators. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Sonny. Truly, that wasn’t the problem. It was himself he didn’t trust. Not for one fucking minute.

When they got to the penthouse, Sonny put Vinnie’s jacket on a chair, took off his own and laid it next to his. Then he went to the bar and started fixing drinks.

Vinnie moved toward the big windows overlooking Atlantic City. He’d only seen Sonny’s penthouse once in the whole time he’d worked at the Royal Diamond. Most of the time they spent together had been away from the hotel, in Sonny’s offices or in Vinnie’s suite drinking, laughing a lot, talking, sometimes watching TV.

The view was absolutely stunning. The lights of the city glittered like lost treasure in an endless dark cave. The city went on and on. “I thought the view from your office was good,” Vinnie said over his shoulder.

Sonny came up behind him and handed him a glass. “It’s nice, but this is better.”

Vinnie took the drink and put it to his lips, swallowing. Whiskey. Just what he’d been wanting more of. It went down warm and wonderful. Sonny glanced at the view, then at Vinnie’s face. Abruptly, Sonny said, “I don’t want any stuff to ruin what we have.”

Vinnie felt his body fill with a kind of slow ache. He looked around for somewhere to set his drink. “Maybe it’s too late,” he said, finding a bookshelf, freeing his hands.

“C’mon, don’t say that.” There was a desperate edge to Sonny’s voice now.

Vinnie’s hands shook a little. He lowered his head and put his open palms to his face. “God, Sonny. I should leave.”

Sonny put his own drink down and came to him, grabbing his wrists. “Don’t. It’s okay.”

“No it’s not,” he said, as Sonny pulled his hands down and gazed at him.

“It has to be. We can go back to the way it was.”

“You don’t understand.”

“What?”

He was just gonna go for it. There was nothing else to do. He said, “God help me, I want you even now.” His voice was shaking, his breath quivering in his lungs.

Sonny kept his hands on his wrists, but tightened his grip. A sheepish smile overtook his face. “Vincenzo, you already have me. If that’s what you want.”

Vinnie’s heart stopped, then started again. “But…but what do you want?”

Sonny let go of his wrists to clasp Vinnie’s face between both hands. He made a small sound, almost like an impatient groan. “With you? Everything.”

Vinnie suppressed a pained laugh and started to pull away.

“Hush.” Still holding his face, Sonny leaned forward and kissed him lightly on the lips. It was so affectionate, so smooth, so perfect. Vinnie felt the fire in his blood flare up. The room spun and it wasn’t the whiskey. When Sonny dropped his hands and pulled back, he gave Vinnie a small smile, and in the smile was such reverence, a kind of respect and, Vinnie could see, a willingness to give Vinnie anything he wanted. Anything at all. It was a look Sonny had been giving him for a long time, but now it was compounded times ten. His eyes glistened. His lips parted just a fraction. Vinnie’s breath caught. This was not the Sonny Steelgrave mob kingpin he’d researched and first met. This was another guy. It had to be. Sonny never even looked at women the way he was looking at Vinnie right now.

Sonny was shaking his head again. “Why did you have to be so perfect?” he whispered.

Vinnie shut his eyes hard. He thought, ‘Why did you have to be so enticing, like some enigmatic sorcerer who put a spell on me?’ Aloud, he said, “I’m not.” But as he opened his eyes, his hands came up over broad shoulders and the expensive smooth white material of his shirt, and he pulled Sonny to him.

It must’ve been just what Sonny was wanting, because he moaned when Vinnie kissed him, and he clutched tightly at Vinnie’s back, almost scratching him through the cotton. Vinnie’s body responded instantly and wildly. And dammit if he wasn’t finally and truly lost because this time it was definitely going to lead to a bed.

For long minutes they kissed in front of the golden view of the sparkling city at night, two silhouettes merging in the hazy glow of glass reflecting incandescent dark and electricity. Vinnie’s body felt suffused with the heat of Sonny’s kiss. It was both gentle and sweet, but deep and exploring. Now Sonny’s hands had risen from his back to his hair and Sonny combed it with both hands, fingers tangling in the mass of it. The touch made him light-headed. He leaned heavier into Sonny, who pulled back suddenly, lips tight, a look of mischief sparking his eyes, along with a depth of such affection and desire that Vinnie swayed, feeling weak-kneed. He caught his breath hard. Wordlessly, Sonny took his hand and led him down the hall.

They fell side by side onto Sonny’s big bed, reaching, groping, undoing. Sonny’s hands ran up and down Vinnie’s bare chest, hot and smooth, making Vinnie’s skin burn, his veins tingle. Vinnie got Sonny’s tie off and started quickly undoing his shirt, rolling Sonny onto his back, pushing his hands inside the cloth. Sonny was laughing softly as he kept leaning up and trying to kiss Vinnie’s shoulder. Vinnie had to lean back and let him up in order to pull the shirt off his arms. Then he clasped Sonny hard to him. Sonny’s arms went around his waist, palms flat, and his hands moved down under Vinnie’s waistband and into the back of his jeans. They rolled again until they faced each other on their sides. Vinnie started undoing Sonny’s pants, pushing them down, then his own. After that their hands were all over each other, everywhere. Sonny rolled on top of Vinnie, his cock poking at him between his legs. Vinnie said, huskily, “What’cha want?”

Sonny laughed into his neck, pressing his body to him, but didn’t answer.

“You got something we can use?”

“Ya think I ever done anything like this before?” Sonny whispered.

Vinnie was chuckling. “You think I have?”

Sonny reached around him to the nightstand. He pulled out a small jar of Vasoline. “This oughta do it.”

In answer, Vinnie arched up beneath him, pulling his knees up. He lifted his feet and clutched the backs of Sonny’s thighs with his calves and ankles. He felt so hot, so alive.

Sonny scooped the slickness liberally onto his fingers, then reached between them and touched Vinnie smoothly, gently, then carefully pushed one finger into him. Vinnie thought it felt fine and said, “Do that more,” encouraging him.

Sonny rubbed him inside more and a little deeper, the touch suddenly sending off currents of pleasure; Vinnie moaned, felt a slow ecstatic burn begin and that all-too familiar ache he’d been fending off for days whenever he was around Sonny. That deep longing. That feeling of needing to be filled. He wanted him so bad. He groaned, shocking himself as he whispered, “C’mon, oh christ do it.” He’d never said that to anybody before, either in or out of bed.

And he’d never ever done anything like this before.

Vinnie held onto Sonny’s shoulders as Sonny touched him, holding him open, then pressed into him. Vinnie held his breath, closed his eyes and felt the warmth of Sonny on him, sinking into him, and nothing in the world could’ve matched what he was feeling in that moment. His eyes rolled up. He heard himself make a kind of sobbing sound but the air still froze in his lungs. He thought he heard Sonny say, “Breathe, Terranova. Baby, breathe.” Sonny’s hand pressed his cheek. Vinnie let go of his breath and felt himself convulse in pleasure as Sonny began to move slowly, lovingly. Vinnie groaned aloud. His legs clutched at Sonny’s waist. His arms came up and around him and he felt Sonny shaking, shivering, panting. Vinnie said, “Ah god don’t stop.”

Sonny leaned down, kissed the side of his chin, gasping, saying, “I won’t, but I…oh god Vinnie.” He pushed harder, harder again, and cried out. Vinnie felt like Sonny was melting all over him. His slim gold body shuddered crazily in his arms. His face pressed hard against Vinnie’s shoulder. Sonny’s voice was a broken, hitching moan that went on and on as he continued to thrust into Vinnie. Everything seemed to move and spin, the bed, the walls, the curtains, the dimness around them. Sonny sounded like he was dying…or maybe coming back to life. Vinnie arched up into his flat stomach, rubbing the head of his flaming erection on the taut, soft skin there. It sure didn’t take much as felt himself spill over. Sonny’s groin rubbed against his balls, sending him over the edge even more and into the light… liquid light all around, blue, lavender, salmon edged in pale green. He cried out in ecstasy, gasping. Sonny’s head came up and his lips were on his, his hand on the side of his head in his hair again. The kiss was another enticement, a brushing, a pressing, like a fucking benediction. Damn Sonny could kiss well.

Slowly, he pulled out, but he did not stop kissing Vinnie. He lay between his legs just loving him, and the slickness between them felt so fine, so intimate that Vinnie didn’t want to move. He loved it. He wanted this moment to last and last and last.

After awhile, Sonny pulled back a little and whispered, “Wow, that was some off-kilter one-night dalliance.”

Vinnie punched him in the shoulder. Then he put his hand on the back of Sonny’s neck, petting the straight brown hair, pulling Sonny down to his mouth again. Sonny was chuckling and as he kissed him he rolled off him and pulled him to him, keeping their bodies in contact. After awhile he said softly, “Terranova, you had enough of me yet?”

Vinnie laughed, tightening his grip. “Not if you keep kissing me like that, Steelgrave.”

“You ever want me to stop, just say the word. ‘Cause I’m not going stop for a long long time.”

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed this work by Natasha Solten, you may also enjoy her m/m romances on Kindle under her non-fanfic name: Wendy Rathbone. Look for "The Foundling," "The Secret Sharer" and the soon to be released "None Can Hold the Dark" (due in fall 2013.) She also has an sf novel out, and a collection of poetry.


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